


you brought fire to a world so cold

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Mutual Attraction, Teasing, low key flirting, shiro and keith wear lingerie, the gang's all part of the same fashion agency, the model au no one asked for, which belongs too and is run by allura (and coran)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9301373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: There’s a lot of rumor and hearsay surrounding their agency’s rising star, who ranks second only to Shiro in terms of popularity. Some of it matches up to the sharp, cutting image Keith presents in his pictures. But that’s what it is in the end, an image. Part of their work involves cultivating a certain image that appeals to a targeted market in order to generate more sales. So just because Keith presents the image of an attractive asshole who’ll cut you down with a single remark doesn’t mean that’s who he is off camera.--A quick fic about first meetings and Keith exceeding Shiro's expectations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this utterly gorgeous fanart by Phospenumbra ([RT here](https://twitter.com/Phospenumbra/status/818997314543058947) and [reblog here](https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/155713672290/phospenumbra-drew-keith-with-my-next-tattoo-and))
> 
>  
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> Utterly unbeated

Shiro hadn’t met Keith Kogane yet but that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize him on sight. 

 

A few strands of hair slide out of place, kissing Keith’s cheekbones. Shiro stares at the lazy, elegant way in which Keith thoughtlessly raises a gloved hand up to sweep the hair over his ear. The small distraction doesn’t even make him blink, eyes continuing to move over the book he’s got propped in front of his lunch tray. The ease with which he’s eating while reading suggests this is a long developed habit. 

 

It goes against a lot of what he’s heard about the fellow model.

 

Lance had gone into great detail about how Keith is his bitter rival and an asshole. Followed by some talk about Keith being kicked out of another modelling agency. Something else about Keith’s rising popularity being a fad that was going to fade out soon enough. There had been a lot of of intense, angry ranting involved that had taken Shiro from surprise. Purely because he didn’t think Lance was the kind of person to hold a grudge, much less a rivalry.

 

Hunk considers Keith to be an okay guy. To quote, “Kind of intense and a little spacey, but cool. He let me have the last slice of chocolate cake when we were in the food line together.” This was significant because Shiro doesn’t know anyone who doesn’t covet their cafeteria’s chocolate cake. So he understands why Hunk considers Keith to be a decent guy.

 

Pidge doesn’t exactly gush about Keith but she considers him a friend. Well. The term she’d used was “co-conspirator” and “fellow believer.” Shiro hasn’t asked details about the first and confusedly inquired into the second. “The truth is out there Shiro,” Pidge had intoned solemnly, slipping into her jacket. “And Keith and me are going to be the ones to find it.” He’d made a mental note to call Matt and recommend no more X-Files marathons for Pidge.

 

The other models on the roster don’t like Keith, envying his rapid rise to fame. Hand-in-hand with their resentment, is their anger towards Keith’s attitude. If certain circles were to be believed, Keith is unbearably rude and has little to no respect for other models.

 

And then there’s Allura and Coran, both of them don’t exactly sing praises of the guy but appreciate his professional, if aloof, manner. He’s punctual to a fault, completely serious about his craft, and doesn’t tolerate anything but the highest caliber of work from all people involved. 

 

“There’s been more than a few times I had to fence calls from angry photographers and stylists,” Coran shares, twirling his mustache around his finger. “But when we asked Keith, he was simply trying to push them to improve the quality of their work. He’s very persnickety about that. Winds up stepping on more toes than an elephant on ants.”

 

In conclusion, there’s a lot of rumor and hearsay surrounding their agency’s rising star, who ranks second only to Shiro in terms of popularity. Some of it matches up to the sharp, cutting image Keith presents in his pictures. But that’s what it is in the end, an image. Part of their work involves cultivating a certain image that appeals to a targeted market in order to generate more sales. So just because Keith presents the image of an attractive asshole who’ll cut you down with a single remark doesn’t mean that’s who he is off camera.

 

_ No time like the present to find out what kind of guy he is _ , Shiro decides, tightening his grip on his tray before he makes his way through the cafeteria. He nods at a couple of greetings but doesn’t stop on his journey to Keith’s window seat. Keith doesn’t notice his approach, fully engrossed in his book.

 

Shiro decides to open with some light teasing. As he comes to a stop next to the low table, Shiro asks, “Can I have your autograph?”

 

With the tiniest of jerks, Keith’s attention snaps like a rubber band. His words come out on auto-pilot, slightly brusque but polite as he turns to Shiro. “Sorry, I don’t have anything o-” Stops when he sees Shiro, eyes widening in recognition. “Takashi Shirogane.”

 

Being face to face with Keith, Shiro realizes the camera doesn’t do him justice. And that is  _ saying  _ something because Keith is  _ extremely  _ attractive when photographed. In his made up state, with make-up and artfully tousled hair, Keith is  _ something _ . But this? Hair lazily tied back, a simply black shirt, skinny jeans, and boot combination? Keith is not only real but he’s also  _ gorgeous _ . 

 

“That’s me,” Shiro grins, ignoring the tightening in the pit of his stomach. He nods towards the empty seat across from Keith. “Mind if I sit down?”

 

There’s an aborted move that looks like Keith thinks about standing to attention before deciding he shouldn’t. He quickly catches himself, nodding. “Sure.” 

 

As Shiro slides into the seat, Keith shoots him a curious look before going back to his book. A polite dismissal. Shiro turns his attention to his meal, taking the knife and fork out of its napkin holder before digging into the fried rice.

 

Chewing on his food, Shiro reads the title of book. His eyebrows shoot up when he realizes it’s not a book as much as a report. Cordially, he asks, “Space fan?” 

 

He has to be if he’s reading the NASA report on Planet-DF85. 

 

Keith glances up, deep blue eyes filled with surprise. Clearly he didn’t expect Shiro to hold conversation. Shiro catches a glimpse of something cautious before Keith glances down before nodding. “Yeah.”

 

“Me too,” Shiro offers, taking another bite of the rice. “I read that report the same night they made it available. Did you read the part where the DF85 Explorer found microfungi at the bottom of a hill?”

 

Keith’s face goes through a series of rapid expressions - mild disbelief, surprise, and ultimately delight. “Yes!” he exclaims, sliding his finger between the pages in lieu of a bookmark before placing it down.

 

Grinning at Keith’s enthusiasm, Shiro points his spork at the report, “You want to read on then. There’s some more great stuff that’s going to blow your mind.”

 

“You mean the part where it literally fell into a bunch of alien plants? I know. I read a summary of the report before I decided to read all of it.” Keith radiates delight as he continues, “I’ve been saying for  _ years  _ there’s more life out there! This is finally proof of it.”

 

Keith’s enthusiasm is controlled but clear. Dazzling in the same way a finely cut diamond catching light is. As he leans forward, explaining the findings from an older report, more of Keith’s hair escapes his loose ponytail. Only this time, Keith doesn’t bother pushing them. They hang there, shifting slightly whenever Keith makes a larger gesture. Shiro swallows down the thought that he wants to kiss the spots those hair strands rest and forces himself to listen to Keith.

 

Their conversation moves fluidly from one topic to the next, enthusiasm levels only rising when they discover another common interest. They go from space to talking about the tattoo etched along Keith’s side to favorite bands to the surprisingly amusing discovery that Keith just isn’t fond of chocolate, so him letting Hunk have the last slice of cake was just Keith being polite.

 

“He was staring at me with these big puppy dog eyes, obviously begging me for something.” Keith shakes his head, bemused. “I was so confused when he thanked me for letting him have the last slice of that chocolate cake. I never got to tell him that I wasn’t even planning on having it.” 

 

It’s all too easy for Shiro to forget the objective of their meeting, too caught up in his delight (and rising attractiveness towards Keith). Keith is so much more than what everyone believes him to be. He’s quiet but intelligent. There’s a wealth of knowledge residing underneath that dark hair, something he casually admits too. In the next breath, he sheepishly admits how terrible he is at social normalities. 

 

“I’m too straight forward for a lot of people. And I miss a lot of... I don’t know. Cues and stuff. I misunderstand something, say the wrong thing, and wind up pissing some people off.” Keith makes a face as he dips his half-eaten nugget into some ketchup. 

 

That bothers him. Shiro can read it in the defensive posture and downturned frown. The urge to reassure him comes from a place beyond the urge to be polite. “Not everyone though. There’s a whole bunch of people who like you. Hunk and Pidge. June. Xing. A lot of the girls.” After a pause, wherein Shiro debates his next words, he finally admits, “And me.”

 

In context of the conversation, it’s an innocent admission. But his words have his heart shifting into overdrive, beating madly in his chest as he feels the back of his neck turning warm at Keith’s gratified expression. 

 

And then Keith goes and smiles at him. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.” Just like that, Shiro feels his heart sink. He expects the next words to be hero worship but Keith defies his expectations yet again. “Having the most popular and well-liked guy in the agency to like me is an honor.”

 

The smirk that accompanies that statement has Shiro reeling. It’s flirtatious with a very clear meaning underneath it. He wants to say “screw you” to his new year's resolution to avoid romance this year. Shiro’s not sure which he wants to do first but he  _ definitely  _ wants to kiss Keith  _ and  _ ask him out. 

 

He’s about to follow through on the latter when a phone begins to ring. Instinctively, Shiro’s eyes lower to his pants pocket but it’s not his phone. Keith pulls a slim phone out of his jacket, swipes his finger across the screen, and answers, “Yes?”

 

It’s the kind of brusque greeting Shiro feels is perfect for Keith. He hides a laugh in his palm, shaking his head when Keith raises a curious eyebrow. While Keith listens to whoever it is on the other end, Shiro looks down at his tray and realizes he’s barely made a dent in his meal. He’s finishing off the fruit salad when Keith tucks his phone away.

 

“Sorry,” Keith apologizes, grabbing his tray as he straightens up. He looks genuinely regretful when he says, “My agent just called me in. There’s a proposal I need to look over.”

 

Shaking his head, Shiro swallows quickly. “It’s okay. That’s the job.”

 

There’s relief and then a quicksilver flash of something in Keith’s eyes that comes and goes before Shiro can name it. “I’ll see you around?” Keith asks, a hopeful lit at the end of the question.

 

“Of course.” He pours as much warmth into the two words as he can. Shiro’s going to make it a point to cross paths more often with Keith. And soon,  _ very  _ soon, ask him out.

 

Keith’s parting grin is happy, toothy look that has Shiro muttering, “ _ Real  _ soon.” to his half-empty glass of OJ.

 

\--

 

Tucking the large envelopes under his arm, Shiro signs the courier’s device and politely thanks him before closing the door. After he’s slid the lock into place, he turns his attention to the two envelopes he’s just received. One of them, he knows, is a new contract he’s supposed to review. The other envelope however, is a mystery.

 

That is, until he flips it over and see’s a line scribbled in the bottom left corner.

 

_ You asked for an autograph. -Keith _

 

Shiro stares at that line and thinks,  _ huh _ ? Before it clicks. Throwing his head back with a quick bark of laughter, Shiro opens the envelope. And feels his breath catch when he pulls the picture out. 

 

It’s a large matte print of Keith’s cover photo for  _ Men’s Health _ .  

 

He’s topless, wearing dark pants which are showing off the black elastic of his underwear on top. Also being shown off are the sharp grooves of Keith’s hips that naturally draw Shiro’s eyes to the thick treasure trail that narrows on the way up to Keith’s belly button. The lean definition of Keith’s abs has Shiro’s stomach tightening with desire. A throb of heat pulses in him as he travels further north and finds the small patch of chest hair between Keith’s pecs.

 

He stares for a long,  _ long  _ moment at Keith’s tattoo. It’s a simplistic rendition of their solar system, the planets neatly lined up along the model’s side. Shiro wants so bad to touch those clean, minimalistic lines with his fingertips. Whisper the names of each planet and their corresponding moons into Keith’s skin, just to make the other man laugh and teasingly call Shiro a bigger space nerd than himself.

 

After a long moment of staring the dark dot that’s supposed to represent Pluto, Shiro notes the definition of Keith’s raised arm. The curled limb and the way Keith’s fingers are pressed together makes it look like the photographer snapped the picture a split second before Keith snapped his fingers. 

 

And nestled underneath Keith’s elbow, is Keith’s autograph - a pretty scrawl that defies Keith’s blunt and honest personality. He’d honestly expected something sharper from the man. 

 

“Fuck,” Shiro breathes out, a stupid grin spreading across his face when he notes the little heart Keith’s drawn after his name. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?

 

Without thinking about it, Shiro thoughtlessly turns the picture around. His eyebrows shoot up when he notices a series of digits scribbled at the bottom. Excitement and surprise slam into each other when Shiro sees the simple “call me” written above what is obviously Keith’s phone number.

 

Despite the fact that he’s shaking his head in delighted disbelief, Shiro’s grin widens. That Keith. 

 

He checks his pocket for his phone. Notes the time and decides to take a chance. He keys in Keith’s number, pauses a nervous moment before hitting call. Holds the phone up against his ear, holding his breath as the dial tone drones on.

 

At the fourth ring, Keith picks up the call and warily asks, “Yeah?”

 

“Keith? It’s Shiro.”

 

“Shiro!” The change in Keith’s voice is dramatic and births swarms of butterflies inside Shiro. “You got my package.”

 

Laughing at the picture he’s still holding in his hand, Shiro answers. “Yeah. Thank you. You didn’t have to go out of your way for this.”

 

“I wanted too.”

 

The honest warmth in Keith’s simple answer lifts Shiro’s confidence up. So much so, that he decides to go for it. He ignores that little voice in his head that worries that maybe he’s read all the signs wrong, and starts, “Uh listen. I wanted to ask you something...”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this GORGEOUS (nsfw-ish) fanart by @thebimbogamer on twitter. [RT here.](https://twitter.com/thebimbogamer/status/898036823410081793)

Shiro comes out of his dressing room first, hand keeping his robe collar closed. It’s not that he’s  _ shy  _ about his body, because he’s not. It’d be weird to be a model and be shy about how he looks. And frankly, he’s  _ proud  _ of how he looks physically. But he always feels more vulnerable when he’s got his prosthetic off. So he keeps his robe closed as much as he can as he steps out. 

 

His PA murmurs into her mic that Shiro’s ready and on his way to the set. But before he does that, Shiro turns his eyes the opposite way, in the direction of Keith’s dressing room.

 

“Has Keith come out yet?” he asks the lanky girl.

 

The dark-skinned girl shakes her head, “Not yet. Should I go check?”

 

“No need. I’m sure he’ll come out when he’s done.” 

 

He smiles politely at the girl, hoping she’ll lead him away but she’s still standing in place, frowning slightly at him. “Is your robe too big?”

 

Shiro laughs, “No! It’s the right size. I just. There’s wings on the back and I don’t want to crush them or anything.”

 

Her dark eyes brighten with understanding. “Oh, right! There were wings. Cool. If they get too itchy, let me know. I’ve got this really great anti-chafing powder that might help.”

 

“I might take you up on that.”

 

The only reason he’s not sliding his hand under the robe collar and scratching at the itchy straps criss-crossing in the middle of the back is because he’s only got one hand right now. So he can either hold the robe close or scratch the hell out of that itch. 

 

_ If I scratch at it, it’ll probably turn red and spoil the pictures,  _ Shiro reminds himself as he carefully sits down on a seat. He rolls his shoulders and grumbles internally.  _ What the hell is this even made of if it’s itching this much?  _

 

He’s wondering if Keith’s facing a similar conundrum when his PA leans over to whisper, “Keith’s on his way.”

 

Shiro can’t help but sit up in anticipation. The urge to run his fingers through his hair and check if he’s looking okay is high. He stops the first desire and pulls his phone out of his bag for the second. His fringe is “attractively floofy” and makeup “perfectly angelic”, to quote the hair and makeup artist who had gotten him ready.

 

As he closes the front camera app, he sees Keith sweeping into the set. Like him, the younger model is also wearing a robe. But where Shiro’s trying to stay covered, Keith doesn’t seem to give a damn. His dark terrycloth robe is loosely knotted at the waist, the collar gaping wide open to show off the dark lingerie Keith’s got on underneath.

 

Shiro’s eyes widen as they take in satiny black material of Keith’s bra and the elegant metallic accents. His gaze lingers on the delicate looking silver metal design resting underneath Keith’s collar bone. It’s a triangle within an inverted triangle, a circle outside each corner with a thin black strap that connects the design to the bra. 

 

What’s more tantalizing however, is that Keith’s every step makes the silvery body chains hanging against his belly and around his hips sparkle. He can’t say for sure but it looks like Keith’s wearing panties underneath his robe.

 

_ Lucky _ , Shiro thinks a tad morosely. He’s wearing some thong-like thing that’s more gold-tinted feathers than fabric and leaves his ass bare.  _ At least it’s not as itchy as these wings. _

 

Shiro’s so caught up studying Keith during his approach, that he fails to realize he’s being studied in return. It’s only when Keith comes to a halt in front of him, head tilted in faint confusion and eyes locked on Shiro’s chest, and asks, “What are you supposed to be?” that he realizes this.

 

Glancing down, Shiro realizes that he’s showing off most of his chest and the white and golden straps criss-crossing delicately across his defined chest. He supposes he ought be grateful that Keith’s question is focused on his wardrobe and not the lack of his right arm. 

 

Rolling his shoulders hard to push the silky material off, Shiro reveals the delicate wings blooming from his shoulders and crossing down his back. Doing so makes the silky material slide all the way down his right side, showing off the scarred stump of his right arm. His eyes are locked onto Keith, a lump in his throat as he waits for the younger man’s reaction.

 

It feels like it’s revealing too much too soon into their relationship. Hell. Is what they have even a relationship right now? They’ve only been on two dates yet. It’s hard to even say that they’re  _ dating _ . Sure it’s no secret in the industry or otherwise that he’s got a prosthetic but there’s so  _ few  _ people who’ve seen him without his arm. In fact, this is the first photoshoot he’s doing without his prosthetic...

 

Keith’s eyes are locked onto his wings, a mildly alarmed look in his dark blue eyes. “Don’t those things  _ itch _ ?”

 

“Like a mother,” Shiro laughs, turning more of his back towards Keith. “They look cool though, right?”

 

“A lot cooler than body chains,” Keith agrees, delicately tracing Shiro’s shoulder feathers. “I don’t get how body chains equal devilish and evil. At least wings make sense for an angel.”

 

Squashing down the tiny hope that Keith’s touch may trace one of the straps crossing his back just so that Shiro can enjoy his touch, he answers instead, “What were you thinking when they said you’d be a ‘devil’ model?”

 

“Horns. Pupil-less eyes. I really thought there would be a tail involved,” Keith shakes his head wryly before meeting his amused gaze. “Need some help putting your robe back on?”

 

With an appreciative smile, Shiro nods and lets Keith delicately pull the robe back up to cover his wings and lack of a right arm. He’s thinking about thanking Keith for not making such a big deal out of things when he feels a quick warm whisper brush against his ear, “You look amazing, by the way.”

 

He’s heard that compliment a million times by this point in his career. From people who’ve meant it and people who were trying to curry his favor. But few of them said those words with an undercurrent of heat and admiration that Shiro felt a rare blush rise up his cheeks.

 

Turning his gaze to watch Keith coolly sit down next to him, Shiro leans in to quietly murder back, “Look who’s talking. You look good enough to eat.”

 

“Careful,” Keith flirts back, gaze coy. “That almost sounds like you don’t want to go slow.”

 

Shiro groans at the reminder. A small part of him wants to go back in time to their first date three weeks ago and kick his past self in the ass for that. He reminds himself that it’s for the best if they take it slow. Even if it means dealing with a fair bit of sexual frustration along the way.

 

“A man can’t flirt with another man without it meaning he wants to get into his pants?” Shiro asks in return, plaintive and almost innocent.

 

Keith hides his laugh and grin behind his palm. It’s a quick chuckle Shiro wants to hear from up close, feel against his skin. “That’s the usual end game. So you have a different goal in mind?”

 

Thankfully Shiro’s spared having to think of a witty rejoinder when someone asks for him to get in front of the camera. “Show time,” he says instead, getting up to his feet. 

 

It’s a deliberate choice to face Keith as he lets the PA help him out of his robe. Shiro wants to smirk with pride as Keith takes him in, from his head down to his toes. And then he wants to die a little bit due to embarrassment when Keith’s eyes roll up and lock onto the glitter that’s been delicately brushed over his nipple.

 

His eyes meet Shiro’s, an eyebrow quirking up in question.

 

Shiro shrugs, implying that he’d let the makeup artist do whatever she’d like. “Shiro, can you sit on the bed please? We’d like to do a quick light check.”

 

“Coming,” he answers back before turning on his heel, giving Keith a  _ full  _ look of what he’s wearing. Shiro  _ hears  _ the startled intake of breath the younger man lets out and smirks. The full impact of the white “angel” lingerie he’s wearing is at its back. It’s not just the wings. No, it’s the golden white chains that wrap around his hips and butt, holding the feathery thing in its place. 

 

There’s honestly  _ nothing  _ really angelic about this lingerie. It’s frankly more devilish and evil than the lingerie Keith’s modelling. As the rest of the crew flits around him, checking the lights, discussing the technicalities, and asking the makeup artist to make subtle adjustments to Shiro’s makeup, Shiro’s gaze keeps flitting back to Keith.

 

He catches the strained way he swallows, like the motion is giving him trouble. Shiro feels wicked delight bubbling up in him at the hunger that’s burning in Keith’s eyes. He stretches his legs out before him, shifting so that Keith can only see the curve of his ass and the four chains that are connecting the wings front to the single thick chain that’s resting between his cheeks.

 

“Can you sit with your legs this way Shiro?” the photographer asks, head behind the camera. Obediently, Shiro turns and stretches his legs out. “Perfect. Lower your shoulder just a little bit. Okay. Now, give me a really hot look. Like you’re trying to seduce your lover.”

 

He smirks before he can control himself and hears the camera shutter snap. “ _ Perfect _ .”

 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Keith move. The man gets off his seat, quietly walking over to stand in front of the laptop that’s displaying the pictures being taken. But his eyes aren’t on the screen. No. He stands with his arms crossed, robe lazily hanging off his lithe frame, eyes locked on Shiro.

 

Shiro hasn’t felt this wanted in  _ ages _ . He luxuriates in the feeling, practically rolling around on the decadent silk sheets as he maintains eye contact with Keith. What does he look like from the other side? Shiro can’t wait to see.

 

“Perfect! Let’s get Keith in here.” 

 

Smoothly sliding off the bed, Shiro walks out of the hot camera lights. Keith’s standing there waiting for him, holding his robe out. Smirking, Shiro takes the silky robe and asks, “How was it?”

 

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” Keith answers lowly, dark eyes glimmering. 

 

A shiver of want slides down his spine even as he smirks and murmurs back, “I hope so.”


End file.
